


Tulip and Peonies

by Morethancupcake



Series: Beauty and the Beast Verse [2]
Category: The Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Asthma, Asthmatic Bane, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tiny bit of Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: "He knows what to ask, and what not to ask. He knows his own limits and boundaries, and sometimes he feels very lucky, almost blessed for this turn of fate, this flower shop opening right next door."John starts to wonder about his future, and his relationship with Bane.





	Tulip and Peonies

**Author's Note:**

> On Valentine's Day, I remember thinking something along the lines of "okay, what pairing truly deserves sickeningly sweet fluff" ? These two.
> 
> Written mostly on my phone, so please be kind about all the typos, remember English isn't my first language before you start yelling at me.

Funnily enough, Valentine's also means more work for John. Couples. Lovers. People ready to commit and make huge mistakes on their skins.

He tries to tell them off, to guide then through different designs, different ideas. 

But for those too stubborn, he mentions his services "in case you want to add something, or slightly alter the pattern".

 

Bane chuckles when John regales him with yet another story, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

They still clean the alley together, in the early morning. In the dark, fingers red from the cold and soapy water, it's hard to believe spring is coming. The huge pots Barsad carried still covered with plastic and hay.

But Bane pushes slowly, his huge hands lifting enough to show John the tiny bumps, the baby green hidden and soft. Bane points them, his eyes making sure John gets it, sees it, the magic happening here.

"You're a magician" John brushes their fingers together, helping with the heavy door now keeping the drunks away. "I don't have the patience."

"You don't." Bane is amused. He's happier these days, a far cry from the dark and sullen man he used to be. It's subtle, but everything about them is, and John knows just where to watch.

 

And that's why he wonders.

He knows what they are. He knows. He knows what to ask, and what not to ask. He knows his own limits and boundaries, and sometimes he feels very lucky, almost blessed for this turn of fate, this flower shop opening right next door.

"This is what romantic comedies are made of" Selina says with a smile. She seems to consider them her protégés, and is oddly protective of them both.

John isn't sure about that. But sometimes, not very often but sometimes, when he lets himself be soft too, he wonders what good he did in his life to deserve this.

They move back and forth, from his place to the other apartment, easily. Mostly, they follow each other in a dance where they avoid shocks, and hurts, and all the frustration he remembers from previous flings. It's simple, just like their coffee in the morning, sitting together, just like the way they seem to grow together, like the ivy slowly reaching from one house to the other.

Bane isn't magically cured, but John doesn't expect him to be. He retires to his own space when things get too much, when the sky goes suddenly dark and menacing in his head, when something, anything, shifts.

"I'm sorry." He tries to say, tired. Sometimes crying. Sometimes fighting to breathe properly, frustrated and angry. "I'm sorry."

John silences him everytime. Bane isn't cured by him. He doesn't expect him to be.

 

But he hopes.

"You want to ask him something." Barsad eyes the two girls leaving, both with friendship tattoos on their legs. John likes these, it makes work light and funny. Barsad takes his beer bottle and pretend he's not being serious. "You want to ask my brother something."

"Maybe." And because he can't help himself. "The bottle is supposed to stay outside, just like you if you're drinking."

Barsad laughs and flip him off, closing the door behind him.

 

It's not that he is worried. He knows this is it. He knows in the way they sleep together, sprawled in the huge bed that smells like rosemary, in the way Bane holds his face like he's something precious, in the way they laughs.

 

"Make it good." Barsad is walking next to him, under the misty rain. It's cold, and he's pissed at everything. They had a fight, or what could constitute a fight. Huffs, and hurt feelings. It's stupid, really, but now he's drunk, walking home next to a whistling asshole.

"The fuck are you talking about." It lacks heat.

"You want to ask something, and he's worried because you're acting like a teenage girl."

"Fuck you."

Barsad laughs, and puts and arm around his shoulders. It's nice, it reminds him of the house, and the boys in his dorms. It reminds him of a time when he considered himself included, part of something that could pass as a family in the eyes or an orphan.

"He doesn't think he deserve it. Make it nice. Buy him flowers, chocolate, don't care. Make it sweet."

"He's going to hate it."

But he can't hide his smile.

 

When he arrives home, the hoodie is back, and he sobers up quickly, right until he realizes the garbage bag in one hand, and the umbrella.

"You home now ?" It's soft, and there's no resentment.

"I can stay with you ?" A nod. He comes close, close enough to reach for his face and kiss his jaw, his chin. "I'll take this. Make us some tea."

 

Later, when they're draped together, miles of soft skin, stubble, bones, muscles, miles he's mapping with his fingers and his lips, he says. "We should take a few days."

Bane hums against him, giant bear, beast, force of nature rendered soft and sleepy.

"We should take a few days and stay inside. You and me. Just us."

"You want to ?"

"Yes." He knows he won already. Bane cuddles him even closer.

"Then we'll do it."

 

John watches him, from his office. The way Bane carefully takes care of the small carnations. The way his fingers can bend without breaking, the way he weaves magic into leaves. 

He feels inadequate, clumsy, barbaric almost, watching.

He wants.

 

"What are you afraid of ?" Selina sits on his couch, and picks one of the cupcakes she brought. Pink frosting on her fingers, she arches a perfect eyebrow at him. "You look like a high schooler with a crush."

"People keep mentioning that." He takes another cupcake. Red velvet. Buttery and decadent. 

"Well because we all live vicariously through you both, and suddenly you're pining and he's moping."

"He's not moping."

"So at least you're not denying it."

 

He doesn't talk. He doesn't say things like what if I'm pushing too hard, what if I push him away, what if I ask and break whatever is between us, soft and perfect like the tiny blade of grass searching for the light.

He listens to her, and smiles when she gets annoyed at his silence.

When she leaves, he brings the cupcakes to the flower shop, and tastes coconut cream on plush lips.

 

"What are your favorite flowers ?" 

Bane is using his office, these days, to complete his orders. John used to believe himself territorial, but he actually welcomes it, the larger desk, the second laptop. It's good to work next to someone.

"I like peonies. Or tulips." Bane catches his eyes and his skin turns a little pink. "They look simple, but they're not."

"You should order some. For us." 

"For us ?" 

"We should fill my place with peonies, during our holiday."

 

He closes the shop, and puts on the sign about his absence. He knows Bane put one too, informing his customers not to expect anything more complicated than potted plants and the easy arrangements Barsard could make.

It feels weird to get ready, with shaking fingers and anticipation. It feels weird to shower and put on comfortable clothes, to arrange the food he ordered in plates, and browse his Netflix queue for something to watch.

 

Bane arrives late, eyes red.

"Another attack ?" He spots the dark circles, the heaving breathing. Bane looks worried, and ready to fly.

"I'm sorry. It was a hard day today."

"Food ?"

"Please." The massive shoulders relax a little. 

 

"This is nice." The deep voice is still a little too raspy after the intense sex they had. Slow, in regards of Bane's health, but passionate and perfect. John nuzzles at his neck, because he's too relaxed to try to pretend he isn't clingy and craving the intimacy.

"It is." He wants to talk, he wants to finally say it, but he still feels vulnerable, and small, and Bane's hands on his back feel so good.

"We should move in together." Bane traces lines going from his spine, tracing muscles, his bones. "If you want, of course. If that's something you want with me, we should." He forces himself up, and meets the tired eyes. "You're different, these days. You need space, and I understand. If you don't want that kind of future for us, you should tell me."

"You think I'm pulling away ?"

"You're in your head." Fingers tracing his eyebrows, his temple. Bane's sadness his locked behind his dark eyes. He looks tired, but ready to deal with this situation, finally. "You worry about me. Soon you'll get mad. I know."

"I want to marry you." It's not as terrifying out there in the open, between them. "I want us to be a family. You, me. Barsad. Even Talia. I want your name, and you mine. I want a family to call my own. That's what I was worrying about."

"You want to marry me."

"I wanted to make everything perfect for Valentine's Day."It doesn't sound ridiculous. Bane doesn't laugh.

 

They make love again, on the couch, knocking over pillows. John would love to be in control, to laugh and find in himself to be cynical.

He holds on to the tall body pining him down, and he closes his eyes, tears running down his temples through his hair.

 

The peonies arrive early in the morning, and they drink their coffee outside, the smell of soapy water and flowers strong in the cold morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! I hope you liked it enough to consider leaving me kudos and a nice comment :) it makes my day !
> 
> You can always find me (and this story) on Tumblr :
> 
>  http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/161177140059/tulip-and-peonies
> 
> And while I have your attention, please remember to drink enough water, and to stretch a little. You'll feel better, trust me.


End file.
